


Last Wish

by StellarLibraryLady



Series: Star Trek Winter Holidays Series [19]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Probing, Anal Sex, Developing Relationship, Episode Related, Episode: s02e14 Bread and Circuses, Feels, First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Kissing, M/M, Sweet, Touching, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-14 04:43:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17501786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StellarLibraryLady/pseuds/StellarLibraryLady
Summary: Trapped together in an alien cell, not knowing about the fate of Captain Kirk or even if he can help them, Spock and McCoy reach a new understanding of their unique relationship.





	Last Wish

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentine's Day!
> 
> Inspired by Star Trek TOS "Bread And Circuses"

“You might as well sit down and conserve your energy, Spock,” McCoy advised as he lounged on the pile of old and soiled bedding in the back of their cell and watched Spock. The Vulcan moved around their cramped prison as McCoy sat with his hands pulled around one drawn-up leg. The pose gave him a relaxed look, so that he looked calmer than he was feeling. “We’ve done all we can to help ourselves. I doubt if even Jim Kirk can work a miracle and rescue us. How could he, especially since he's a prisoner himself?”

Spock ran his hands along the door frame, testing for weaknesses. He'd paused for the briefest second, though, then had gone on with his task and hoped that McCoy hadn't seen how anxious he really was.

But McCoy had seen. "Look, I know you're worried about Jim," McCoy continued. "I am, too. There ain't nothing wrong with being concerned."

Spock paid him no heed as he continued to search their confines for any means of escape.

"Give it up, Spock," McCoy urged, with just a touch of annoyance in his voice. "We might as well settle back and wait to see what happens next. If there was any chance of busting outa here, I'd be running my fingers raw all over this cell, too." He glanced around him. "But this place looks pretty sturdy to me."

“That is the difference between you and me, Doctor,” Spock muttered as he absently tested the perimeters of their prison. “You are all too ready to give up, while I must constantly seek to determine if any mistakes have been made by our captors in the construction of our cell.”

“That is indeed the difference between us. I’m a realist. I know that our cell door is sturdy and won't swing open not matter how much you try to intimidate it with gloomy thoughts or evil looks.” Despite their dire situation, a touch of humor flashed in his eyes and his slight grin. "You can scowl at that door all you want, but it's gonna stay indifferent to you. You can't intimidate it with those snapping black eyes the way you can a man or some hostile alien wielding a Stone Age club. You gotta confront something that can think and reason, and that damned door doesn't fit either category. Face it, Spock! You've finally met your match! And it was a no-brainer!" He chuckled at his own joke, but there was no humor in the sound. Even McCoy realized that he was starting to sound like a hysterical person, and he also knew that wasn't going to help any creature in this cell with a functioning brain. Those realizations quickly sobered him and helped him to regain his grip on sanity again.

Spock ran his fingers along the bars of the cell, then gripped them in his mighty hands. McCoy secretly wished him luck, but knew that they needed more than luck to help them at this point.

McCoy watched Spock shake the door sharply as he had done several times before. “It ain’t gonna budge for you anymore than it did ten minutes ago. Or twenty. All you’re gonna get for your effort is a bunch of strained muscles, and I don’t have my doctor kit with me. Not even a bandage for small cuts or a nail clipper for hangnails, so don't be roughing up your hands any. I won't be able to mend you. You just gotta accept what's going on here. Get real about our situation.”

Spock spared a moment of precious time to send a sour glance at McCoy who realized that he'd struck a nerve in the generally stoic Vulcan. “You have it wrong, Doctor. It appears that I am the realist, while you, you are being the pessimist.”

The grunt of amusement from McCoy sounded forced, which indeed it was. Then he frowned. “That well might be the last funny thing I ever hear you say, Mr. Spock.”

That got Spock’s full attention and he turned. “I did not realize that I was being funny. Far from it.”

“That’s the difference in our senses of humor. Didn’t you know that?”

Spock frowned in puzzlement as if he could not quite understand McCoy's logic. Which he couldn't.

McCoy turned aside. “Yeah, I know. I’m a sick bastard, and you’re the only sane person in this cell. But I’m scared, Spock, scared that something bad is happening to Jim and we can’t help him. Or that he won’t be able to help us. It sucks to be separated from him like this. At least you and I are together. That helps a little. At least we won't die alone as Jim well might.” 

Concern for Kirk stopped Spock and he seemed to freeze in place. He looked to McCoy for answers, maybe even for hope for them and Kirk.

McCoy glanced back at the man studying him with thought and decided to share his deepest fears with him. “But what I’m more scared of is that I’ll fall apart if this cell is where I die. I don’t want to be a sniveling coward about it. I want to face it like a true hero. I don’t want to give these bastards the satisfaction of thinking that they broke me. Because if I do, I know I will let Jim down. And the Federation. And my family. My friends. Myself.” His blue eyes deepened in color and intensity as he stared hard into Spock’s dark eyes. “And you.”

Spock’s mouth dropped open slightly and he stared back at McCoy.

“Just as I know that you don’t want to fall apart for my sake,” McCoy added softly.

Spock turned away. McCoy was uncovering all of Spock's worst concerns about their situation.

McCoy straightened. “Yeah, I know it’d be better if we kept spouting a line of bullshit, like neither one of us actually realizes what this could be it, the end of everything for us. Hell, odds are that we could both die five minutes after we get out of this hellhole. Or the moment that some pissed-off alien shows up brandishing a sword and yelling bloody-murder about killing us. And maybe it’s better for us to pretend and not recognize the undeniable truth that Death has a better chance of finding us than Jim does. But I can’t do that this time, Spock. I’m too scared. And for once, please, please, do not pretend that you are not scared and riddled with doubt, too. Please don’t bullshit me now, because I need you to tell me the truth. For once, the truth.”

Spock seemed to relax and to release something, something that had been holding him rigid. “Alright, Doctor, what do you propose we do with our time? Shall we be realistic and admit that we are waiting for Death as equally as we are waiting to be rescued by the Captain? And we both know the truth about that, too, do we not? We both do know that Death has a much better chance of succeeding this time. After all, It is not being held prisoner as Jim is. Death rarely takes a holiday.”

McCoy gave him a weary smile that had no humor behind it. “That would be refreshing, now, wouldn't? Death taking a holiday. But Death is a part of Life, a very necessary part."

Spock raised an eyebrow slightly. "I cannot argue with your logic, nor do I wish to."

"Look, I know that you would like to get outa here and rescue Jim. So would I. I want all of us to go back to the Enterprise, like always. But just for a moment can't we admit the obvious and not beat ourselves up about it? Why don't you come over here and keep me company and just be my friend for awhile? How about that? Could you support me for once? I could really use it. I don't wanna face this alone.”

Spock seemed to have lost his incentive. He shuffled over to where McCoy sat and sank down onto the pile of bedding beside him, leaned back against the wall, and sighed deeply with hooded eyes. “I always believed that I supported you, Doctor. That saddens me that you believe I did not.”

“Well, you did, but I'm a bastard. I did you a disservice just now. I shouldn’t have let you think that you’d disappointed me. You haven't. I just wanted you over here with me.”

That seemed to please Spock and his face cleared a little. "I am happy that I have not disappointed you, Doctor."

But McCoy frowned. “It makes a difference to you what I think?”

Spock shot him a look, then turned to stare through the bars across the cell from them. “It always has.”

McCoy’s frown deepened. “I never realized that.”

Spock glanced at him again and did not turn away from McCoy's searching eyes. “I am sorry that I did not make that sufficiently clear about the high regard which I have for you.”

McCoy’s breath caught. “I never realized that, either. I thought that you tolerated me, that I was a necessary evil.” He looked down. “And that’s the best scenario I had about our relationship.” He bit his lips together and frowned. “And the worst scenario is that I was a thorn in your side.”

Spock seemed to halt his breath, also. “I am sorry if you had that impression.”

McCoy could tell that he had really hurt Spock’s sensibilities. But what amazed McCoy more was that he had hurt himself as well as Spock.

“No. Scratch that. I only said that to wound you. Sorry I did that to you.”

“Then why did you do it?” Spock asked sensibly.

McCoy stared into Spock’s questioning eyes and had to tell the truth. “I wanted to hear you say it again.”

“And what was that?”

“That I am important to you.”

“What amazes me, Doctor, is that I am that important to you.”

McCoy broke the look between them and leaned against the wall himself. He mulled over what Spock had just told him. After awhile, McCoy smirked. “Yeah, I guess you are.”

Spock rolled his head toward McCoy. “You guess?”

“What do you want me to say?!” McCoy barked, suddenly flustered.

“Are you going to use anger to hide your embarrassment again?”

“When have I ever done that?!” McCoy snapped, then stopped suddenly with startled eyes. He huffed, crossed his arms, and sank back against the wall again. “It is my defense mechanism. Now what can I do to defend myself from you? We’re trying to be honest, so I can’t use any of my protective poses anymore.”

“Why do you feel that you need to defend yourself from me?”

McCoy’s eyes fluttered shut. “Because, if I don’t guard myself against you, you’ll break my heart.” He kept his eyes closed, then finally opened them and looked at Spock when Spock said nothing back. “What? What are you looking at?” McCoy wanted to know.

“You,” Spock answered. “What an enigma you are. And all the time, everyone thought that I was the great mystery.”

“No great mystery about me, Spock,” McCoy said with a sigh. “I’m just like everyone else. I just wanna be loved.”

“But you are. By so many people.”

“But I don’t believe it, Spock. I don’t believe that people love me. Not really.”

“That is the human condition, is it not? We can never receive enough love to satisfy us.”

“’We?’” McCoy questioned as he swung his head back to Spock. “You feel unloved, also?” He frowned in thought. “And that’s important to you?”

“I know that I should feel differently. I have found the acceptance I have always sought in Star Fleet, but still there is a hunger for more. Something is missing, but I do not know what it could be to make me feel complete.”

McCoy’s eyes burned with sudden tears and empathy for this strange creature who had come among them.

“Thank you for telling me that, for trusting me that much, Spock.”

It was Spock’s turn to swing his head toward McCoy. His smile was what McCoy could only describe as bittersweet. McCoy suspected that Spock’s eyes were probably stinging with tears he wished not to shed, either.

“I always trusted you, Leonard.”

They held each others’ eyes while warmth flowed between them.

“Yeah,” McCoy breathed after a moment. “We’re a couple of jackasses not to realize before now just what we meant to each other.”

“At least we have finally realized it.”

McCoy’s smile was gentle. “I think that I’ve just proven that you are capable of a genuine, warm, decent feeling, after all.”

Spock looked betrayed, then he turned aside. “May I congratulate you on an excellent trap, Doctor. I never suspected that anything was amiss. I am in checkmate by you, at long last.”

McCoy was devastated. “No! That’s not what I intended! I didn’t mean to trick you! You must believe me!”

Spock was impressed that McCoy was being so adamant about correcting his mistake.

“Why is it so important to you that I believe you?” Spock wanted to know.

“Because out-foxing you isn’t as important as your believing me.”

“Why?”

“Because other things are more important to me now.”

The question was on Spock’s face even if Spock did not voice it.

Why?

McCoy didn't even hesitate. “If this is indeed my death day, I have one last wish,” McCoy said softly.

“And I can grant this last wish for you?”

McCoy slowly nodded. "You're the only one who can."

Again, Spock’s face asked the question that he was thinking. But this time, it was a different question.

What?

McCoy’s heart was in his throat, but he still managed to say it, to voice what was in his heart.

“I want you to make love to me.”

Spock’s face stayed immobile, but all sorts of emotions played across it and reflected in his eyes. His skin deepened to a dusky green.

“I want you to make love to me, as if you meant it,” McCoy clarified in a soft voice. “And I want you to start by touching me and by kissing me. As if you meant that, too.”

Spock seemed to be having trouble forming words. “By ‘make love,’ do you mean, ah--” he finally asked, but could not finish.

“Turn me over, strip me naked, and have sexual congress with me in my ass. Like goddamn apes in the jungle, like we can keep on doing it forever, like we had nothing else to think about.” A pulse beat in McCoy’s throat, but he’d still managed to speak his fondest desire. It was one he’d kept hidden for a long time now. And with the prospect of not much of a future ahead of him, he’d decided ‘what the hell’ and made his proclamation. Spock could only kill him once, McCoy decided, and it might be quicker and easier to go by the Vulcan’s hands than by an agonizingly prolonged death from their captors.

When Spock did not immediately answer, McCoy decided to elaborate. “Make me see stars. Make me forget everything except what your body is doing to me.” He licked his dry lips. “Make me believe that my whole universe is in your penis.”

“I, I do not know if I can do all of that,” Spock admitted. McCoy had just given him the role of a superman, which Spock knew all too well that he was not.

“I’ll try to make you believe that your whole universe is in my body," McCoy promised. "That’s all I have to give you now. My warmth, my shelter, my whole being. But it’s yours, if you want it. Because I sure do want to give it to you.”

Spock reached out and touched McCoy’s cheek. He studied McCoy for a long moment. Spock could see the earnestness and truth in McCoy’s eyes.

“I would be pleased to receive your body,” Spock said softly. His hand slid behind McCoy’s head. “If it would please you to receive mine.”

“Oh, darlin,’” McCoy breathed with the first joy he’d felt in a long time. “Nothing could please me more.”

Spock’s hand pulled McCoy toward him, but McCoy came willingly. 

McCoy’s mouth was open as their lips met, and Spock quickly opened his own to receive McCoy’s tongue. After that, they were lost in a wilderness of wet kisses and searching hands. Their mutual discovery might have lasted an eternity or only a moment. It did not matter, because neither realized the passage of time.

The one clear thought that McCoy had was that Spock didn’t seem to be needing any more prompting. The Vulcan seemed to be figuring things out on his own. Very nicely.

And then McCoy did not think about even that after awhile.

 

McCoy was on his stomach when he felt the cool air strike his naked loins after Spock had striped him of his trousers. How they had gotten to this stage, McCoy really didn’t remember. He just knew that they were there. And he was so very, very grateful.

This is really going to happen, McCoy thought. I can die happy now, because this is really going to happen. Dying happy! He nearly chuckled because he knew what he’d thought was so literal. But he didn’t want to dwell on death. He wanted to dwell on what Spock was doing to him. Because no matter how dire a situation or how pessimistic a person tries to be, hope still burns in his heart and soul. And McCoy was excited about the prospects of his immediate future, no matter what may follow. Life chooses life, not death. And McCoy was ready to live what was coming next in his life.

Because the next moment Spock gently pulled McCoy’s legs open. McCoy rubbed his face over the top of his folded hands that supported his head. For some reason, he felt more naked and exposed when he did that, as if his hands were compromised and couldn’t help him. He could feel Spock’s eyes inspecting him and knew that Spock was pleased by what he was seeing. Maybe Spock had been wanting an experience like this, also, and just had never approached McCoy about it. Oh, the time that they had wasted!

Then Spock’s fingers tentatively touched the tender skin near McCoy’s anus. McCoy tried not to jerk, but no one had ever touched him there so intimately. Spock lightly made a circle around the puckered flesh, and McCoy couldn’t help it. He flinched and sighed deeply in his throat.

“I am sorry that I have no lubrication to reduce the friction when I enter you," Spock apologized. "I will try to use my saliva as a substitute. Please relax your muscles as much as you can for I have no intentions of harming you.”

His fingers left McCoy’s flesh and returned wet a moment later. McCoy moaned as he felt a long finger tentatively working into his wrinkled opening. He breathed jaggedly as the second finger joined it and then a third as Spock gently rooted his exploring fingers deeper inside McCoy's living body. 

McCoy was shuddering when the fingers gently withdrew out of him. He wanted to protest their leaving, but he knew that Spock would very soon be introducing a much larger part of himself into McCoy’s rectum. McCoy would not have to wait long now.

And he didn’t.

Spock quickly inserted his penis inside McCoy. It was as if Spock could not wait a minute longer, either. McCoy gasped as he felt the warm mass shove inside him. 

This! Was! Really! Happening! 

He would’ve liked to have seen Spock’s penis engorged and erect, but it was enough that McCoy could feel it slicing into him with determination. He knew that Spock was being careful, but the penetration still hurt.

But it felt, oh, so very, very wonderful, too!

 

Spock held him in his arms when it was over and cooed to him to encourage him to sleep. McCoy didn’t want to sleep, though. He wanted this moment to last forever. For if McCoy slept, the quicker he would awaken to the guards coming to kill him and Spock.

"Hold me, Spock," McCoy begged as Spock cradled him gently. "You might not be able to make me feel safe. Just so I don't feel alone." He burrowed against Spock's chest as Spock tried to comply, because Spock didn't want to face Death alone, either.

He just hoped that Jim didn't feel alone in this final trial, because Spock longed to give him comfort, too. Spock hoped that Jim knew that he was with him in thought, if not in body. In the meanwhile he would hold onto this person that was suddenly very precious to him and thank whatever gods were out there for the privilege of doing so. To think that all of this love had been waiting for him, and all that he had to do was to accept it. Earthlings might be erratic, but he now knew that he could not do without them. Especially this one. He gave McCoy another squeeze and knew that it had not all been for McCoy's benefit.

McCoy welcomed the comforting embrace and tried to savor its warmth for as long as possible. But the exhaustion of love overcame him at last, and he went to sleep in Spock’s arms. At least he’d had a taste of love with Spock. If that was all that Heaven would grant him, he would have to be content. But, oh, he would have liked it to have lasted a lot longer than this! For both of their sakes.

 

 

“Well, I’ll be damned!” Kirk roared. “You two look like you haven’t been suffering!”

Spock and McCoy stirred and pulled out of each others’ arms. Luckily, they had managed to dress themselves before they had succumbed to the Golden Sleep of Love that overtook them. Otherwise, Kirk would've had a lot more to say and so would their other rescuers.

“You achieved freedom from your captors, Captain?” Spock questioned sleepily as he stood.

“Not really. Scotty got antsy and came hunting for us. He brought several other red shirts with him. I was sure happy to see them, especially since they all held phasers in their hands and meant to use them.”

Since he was so stiff and tender from their recent lovemaking, McCoy pulled himself gingerly to his feet as Kirk was speaking. McCoy slumped once, but Spock caught him and held him up. Spock murmured something that sounded like concern, and McCoy shot him a grateful half-smile punctuated with warm, sparkling eyes.

Spock’s solicitude and McCoy's weakness did not escape Kirk who frowned. “McCoy has been injured?" he questioned Spock. "How badly?”

“He has sustained nothing that is life-threatening, Captain,” Spock reassured him. Spock and McCoy exchanged shy, almost embarrassed glances. If only Kirk knew the instrument that had caused McCoy's injuries! And where! "Dr. McCoy will be in good condition with adequate rest."

McCoy marveled at the deadpan, tongue-in-cheek response that Spock had given Kirk. How often, McCoy wondered, had Spock given him two-edged answers when McCoy had not been aware of it? How often had McCoy's incomprehension been vastly entertaining to Spock?

But Spock would not do that to McCoy now, not after the intimacy they had so recently shared when they had thought that their futures were only a few hours long or even only a few scant moments long. They had held each other and had surrendered to each other. Nothing would ever be the same between them again. And it would all be good.

McCoy's heart swelled with the prospect of having someone to love of his very own, someone who loved him back. And it was as if his heart spoke to Spock, for the Vulcan turned with only tenderness warming his dark eyes. He dared to reveal all of the passion that he was feeling for McCoy, for he trusted McCoy with not only his heart but with his very soul.

McCoy was overwhelmed by the intensity of Spock's passion, but he would match it. He would not turn away from Spock now. He would not turn away from love now.

Spock saw the promises in McCoy's eyes and understood that McCoy would be brave for Spock's sake, even when he might not be able to be brave for himself. And Spock finally understood what it meant to be loved by a human. And he knew that he would treasure McCoy's love forever.

Kirk noted the self-conscious, but soft looks that had passed between Spock and McCoy and wondered what had caused that intimacy between them. At least he should be happy that they hadn’t killed each other in the cell, but he sensed that something important had happened to them.

“Well, gentlemen, shall we return to the Enterprise now that our little adventure is over?” Kirk asked.

Spock and McCoy quickly agreed, but Kirk had the feeling that some adventures were just beginning. Someday, he’d like to know just what went on in that cell, anyway. He had the notion that it had been something momentous.

And he would've been right!

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing of Star Trek, its characters, and/or its story lines.


End file.
